


baby let's get fresh (it's like we just met)

by teatales



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Aziraphale is "just enough of a bastard to be worth knowing" (Good Omens), Established Relationship, Flirting, Light Dom/sub, Other, Praise Kink, Roleplay, Sexual Tension, strangers in a bar, truly 2k words of flirting and crowley turning into a puddle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-08
Updated: 2019-12-08
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:34:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21713857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teatales/pseuds/teatales
Summary: The pair didn’t need to necessarily ‘change things up’ as it were. Six thousand years of denial and desire meant they had plenty of ideas for their more intimate activities. And inspiration - ahem - arose all the time.That didn’t mean Aziraphale didn’t get ideas in his head that he managed to convince Crowley of, ideas they simplyhadto try. So here they were on a regular Thursday evening, in the bar of the Ritz, pretending to be strangers to pick each other up. It was ridiculous. Crowley loved him so much.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 15
Kudos: 94





	baby let's get fresh (it's like we just met)

**Author's Note:**

> Here is the second fic from the reader poll I did. Hope you enjoy ;) 
> 
> Title and fic directly inspired by Imaginary Parties by Superfruit: <https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x8N5X-2xAbg>. Not mandatory listening but heavily encouraged - it's a bop and gives you the kind of vibe I was going for. 
> 
> The fake name Aziraphale comes up with is based on this guy: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Barachiel. I couldn't find a good ref for Crowley's outfit but I imagine the lace to be very dense/intricate without a lot of gaps. 
> 
> cw: they are in a bar and the consumption of alcohol is mentioned (though it isn't the focus), there's one joke about sugar daddies if that's a concern for anyone

The pair didn’t need to necessarily ‘change things up’ as it were. Six thousand years of denial and desire meant they had _plenty_ of ideas for their more intimate activities. And inspiration - ahem - arose all the time. 

That didn’t mean Aziraphale didn’t get ideas in his head that he managed to convince Crowley of, ideas they simply _had_ to try. So here they were on a regular Thursday evening, in the bar of the Ritz, pretending to be strangers to pick each other up. It was ridiculous. Crowley loved him so much.

Aziraphale was already settled on one of the stools, his back to the room. He had made some polite conversation with the bartender but now waited patiently for Crowley to arrive. 

Crowley had dropped the angel off at the entrance then went off to park the car. He didn’t trust valets. They had arrived together and already had a room booked for a night but it was about the build up. The anticipation. Or at least, that is what Aziraphale had told him.

Crowley sauntered in and immediately caught sight of his love. He had miracled his outfit after Aziraphale had left in order to surprise him. He was in the same jacket and trousers but the shirt had been replaced with one made of sheer black lace. Temptation was his specialty, after all. 

Crowley slid onto the seat next to Aziraphale’s and grinned. 

“Ah, hello there,” Aziraphale said pleasantly. His sparkling eyes met Crowley’s through the glasses, then wandered down his partially unbuttoned shirt, then back up again. 

Crowley’s smile grew wider as he noticed Aziraphale’s non-tartan tie. “Hiya. I’m Anthony.” 

“Oh, I’m, ah, Barachiel,” he offered a hand.

Crowley blinked in surprise and shook it. “That’s… certainly an unusual name. Don’t hear of too many Barachiels nowadays. Pretty angelic sounding, though. Suits you.” 

“Ah, that’s, that’s very kind of you to say," Aziraphale said with a blush.

“No worries, angel. Can I get you a drink?” Crowley asked easily. 

“Oh, that would be lovely, thank you very much.” Aziraphale had reached out to lightly put a hand on Crowley’s thigh. Crowley blushed as he always did at Aziraphale’s affection. Only around the angel did he become such a bad actor. 

“Um, it’s okay, uh, whatwouldyoulike?” 

Aziraphale gave his drink order and Crowley called the bartender back over. 

They made small talk while they waited for the drinks to be made. 

“So, Anthony, what do you do?” 

“Oh, ah, well. Mostly look after my plants ‘n’ my car, listen to music. Y’know.” He shrugged. 

Aziraphale nodded sagely. “A life of luxury, then? Are you one of those, what are they, sugar fathers, then? If money isn’t a question,” he said innocently. A lip twitch gave him away. 

Crowley was glad he had waited to start drinking because he definitely would have choked when he heard that. 

“Pffft It’s sugar _daddy_ , angel. That’s, uh, not me though, not at all. What about you? A sugar baby? You’re definitely sweet enough for that,” Crowley said with a wink. 

“Ah, thank you, my dear. But no, I haven’t been in a relationship for a long while, now. Money has never been a factor for me.” 

“So we’re both free agents, then. Perfect. Let’s drink to that.” Crowley raised his glass and Aziraphale matched him. “To freedom.”

“Freedom. And new friends,” Aziraphale added with a smile. 

They tapped their glasses together and drank. 

“Well,” Crowley drawled. “If you _aren’t_ charming rich men out of money, what do you do for a living?”

Aziraphale ran a thick finger around the rim of his glass and Crowley did his best not to jump him. Even when doing the most mundane things he was stunning. 

“I own a bookshop. Nothing particularly glamorous, I assure you.” 

“Nah, angel, I don’t buy that,” Crowley shook his head. “Look at you, with your bow tie and all. If that’s not glamorous I dunno what is.” 

Aziraphale gave him another beautiful smile. “You’re too kind.”

“No more than you deserve.” They shared a charged glance. “C’mon, tell me about your bookshop. What do you sell? What do you like about it?” Crowley took another sip of his drink and leaned in closer. 

“I don’t actually sell much, if I can help it. I specialise in rare and antique texts and well…”

“Yeah?” One of Crowley’s curls had fallen loose and Aziraphale became transfixed by it. 

“I love them. They’re like old friends, at this point. If people, especially students, want to come in and read I don’t mind but the thought of losing them permanently…" A pained look crossed his face. "I’d rather not.” 

“Not just glamorous but noble, too. You really are an angel, aren’t you?” 

“Oh, ah, well. That’s very kind of you to say, dear.” 

Aziraphale smiled at Crowley through his sunglasses. Despite the tinted lenses Aziraphale knew he was staring right at Crowley. Crowley didn’t back down and they shared a heated gaze for a moment. Aziraphale suddenly moved and raised a hand to tuck that loose curl back behind Crowley’s ear. His fingers brushed against the shell of his ear and Crowley broke out in goosebumps. It was a simple touch, sure - but anything Aziraphale did to him drew out the most intense reactions. 

His hand moved the short distance down to cup Crowley’s cheek gently. If he wasn’t blushing before he certainly was now. His face felt on fire. Aziraphale withdrew to take another sip of his drink and then let out a satisfied noise that should be made illegal. 

Aziraphale decided to change tactics. “So, Anthony,” he all but purred. “Do you come here often? I confess, I visit the Ritz quite frequently and I most certainly would have remembered a gorgeous thing like you.” 

“Hnggh, nah, not really, angel,” Crowley stammered as he tried to get himself back under control. “Glad I came tonight, though.” 

Aziraphale gave a small smirk, possibly over Crowley’s choice of phrase. The demon gulped at that look and drained the rest of his drink. He summoned the bartender back over. 

“Oh, let me get that, my dear,” Aziraphale said with a pat to his hand. As Aziraphale ordered he kept his hand right where it was, over Crowley’s. It felt… undeniably possessive and commanding. All Crowley could do was sit there and feel sweat gather at the back of his neck. 

Aziraphale switched to drinking with his non-dominant hand to continue touching Crowley. “I’m glad, too.” 

“Wha’?” 

“That you came here tonight, dear,” Aziraphale said with mirth. “I’m very fortunate for such… delightful company.” 

“Ngk!” 

“Are you feeling alright, Anthony? You appear a little hot.” Aziraphale pressed the back of his hand against Crowley’s forehead as if either of them could get such human illnesses. “Maybe you want to remove your jacket.” 

It wasn’t a question. 

Crowley complied, utterly bewitched by the confidence Aziraphale was exuding and removed the offending material. He was regretting his choice of outfit, now. The lace shirt underneath left him ridiculously exposed. It was tight, too. Flush against his skin and it grazed over his nipples every time he moved. Crowley placed the jacket on the empty bar-stool next to him and turned back to face Aziraphale. 

The look on Aziraphale’s face took all the breath out of him. 

The angel’s eyes flicked up from where they had been studying Crowley’s chest. “Oh, I’m sorry for staring, my dear,” Aziraphale said, not sounding at all apologetic. Crowley shifted on his seat, one leg thrown over the other. 

“‘S’okay,” Crowley managed and took a sip of his drink. He had ordered some ridiculously brightly coloured cocktail, complete with umbrella and sugared rim. He racked his brain for safer conversation that wouldn’t lead to him gaining a public indecency charge. 

Aziraphale watched on, amused. For all that Crowley was a “flash bastard” he barely had to turn on the charm and the demon melted into an incoherent puddle. It was delightful. Truly one of Aziraphale’s favourite past times. 

“So you’ve never been to The Ritz before, then? But I take it that you’re a local, not on holiday or anything?” Aziraphale asked. 

“Yep, uh, local, sure. That’s me,” Crowley replied. 

“I’m much the same. No rest for the wicked, I suppose,” he winked. “A shame I can’t enquire as to whether you’re here on business or pleasure, though.” 

“Bah, angel!” Crowley exclaimed, almost breaking character. “You can’t just _ask_ me that!” 

Aziraphale finished his drink and turned to fully face Crowley. Suddenly their bar-stools seemed much closer together. The wide sprawl of Aziraphale’s legs caged in Crowley’s and heat flowed between them. 

“You’ll have to forgive me, Anthony. We hardly know each other and I’m acting like quite a cad. You deserve a gentleman.” His hands rested on top of his cream trousers and Crowley’s gaze was drawn to them. He wanted those hands on his body. Desperately. 

“Nah, no, hey, you’re hnngh fine. Just don’t, y’know, have uh, many people, um…” 

“Yes?” 

“Flirtwithme,” Crowley finished breathlessly. Despite having a drink the moment before he suddenly felt incredibly parched. His tongue darted out to wet his lips. 

Something of a determined look crossed Aziraphale’s face as he tracked the movement. 

“My dear, I don’t believe that for a second. A gorgeous thing like you? People should be throwing themselves at your feet!” 

Crowley opened and closed his mouth a few times before he managed to speak. “Nice of you to say."

“I said it because I meant it, darling,” Aziraphale chided. “May I, then?” 

“May you what?” 

“Flirt with you as you deserve.” 

“I, uh, um,” Crowley stammered then nodded hastily. The heat that had pooled in his stomach felt like it was aflame. The air thickened between them and Aziraphale gave a pleased smile. 

He leaned forward, right in Crowley’s space now. 

“You’ve had this speck on your lip for the past few minutes and it’s positively been _taunting_ me,” Aziraphale murmured. 

His hand slid smoothly over the side of Crowley’s thigh, up his chest, to his face. Aziraphale cupped Crowley’s jaw and dragged his thumb achingly slower over his plump bottom lip. 

Crowley couldn’t help but instinctively brush his tongue against the digit. Aziraphale’s eyes widened at the boldness and took his hand back. Crowley followed the movement slightly, his whole body tied to orbit Aziraphale’s. The angel in turn sucked the thumb into his own mouth. Although brief the gesture was tantalising - pink plush lips around pale flesh. 

He released his finger with a grin. “Sweet.” 

A low moan spilled out of Crowley’s mouth. His hands gripped the stool beneath him so tightly that his knuckles turned white. It was all he could do not to fall out of his chair and climb on top of the angel. 

Apparently Aziraphale wasn’t done. He leaned forward again into Crowley’s space. Both hands - those glorious hands - slid up to hold his waist. Heat poured through the delicate fabric and Crowley’s legs tightened against each other in hopes to hide his arousal. 

Aziraphale really was having fun now. He had meant it, that Crowley deserved to be flirted with properly. Sometimes Aziraphale didn’t understand how he was so lucky to have such a beautiful person on his arm. Crowley liked to remind him often how attractive he found Aziraphale, how “love-shaped” his corporation was. It was nice to turn the tables a little. 

They stayed there for a moment. Crowley’s teeth dug into his lip as he tried to stifle the noises that wanted to rush out of him. Aziraphale took his time to absorb the image. 

His hands slid up quickly as he crowded Crowley even more. One rested over his pounding heart and the other tangled in the side of his long hair. 

Aziraphale bent down to murmur into his ear. “Never been to The Ritz, before, hmm? You must never have had a chance to see a room, then. It’s truly… spectacular, I would say. Would you like to?” 

“Hm?” 

Crowley had become quite distracted by the proximity to such a lovely angel. In fact, his eyes had fallen shut beneath his glasses and his body had relaxed in that strange snakey way of his that left him mostly-upright and boneless. 

Aziraphale pulled back just enough to look at his sweetheart, while his hands remained firmly in place. Crowley opened his eyes. He swallowed tightly. 

“I said, would you like to see a room, Anthony?” The name dripped off his tongue like honey. Crowley was excruciatingly aware of every single place they were touching. 

“Please,” he whispered. 

Aziraphale’s smile was like the sun coming out from behind a cloud. “Oh good." His voice was warm with approval. 

He untangled his fingers from Crowley’s hair with a slight pull and retrieved the still-full glass from the bar. 

“Finish your drink,” he said. Crowley went to take it from him but Aziraphale stopped the movement with a pointed look and a displeased noise. 

With a furrowed brow Crowley opened his mouth. The rim of the glass was lifted to it to his lips and Aziraphale steadily poured in the cocktail. He watched Crowley swallow with a proud satisfaction. 

Aziraphale led them away out of the bar and further into the hotel. His arm was wrapped tight around Crowley’s waist. Everyone they passed certainly knew where they were headed. 

Crowley hadn’t put on his jacket back on. Instead he held it in front of his legs in what he hoped was a subtle gesture. Crowley thought it was fortunate that Aziraphale was so steady beside him. It felt like his legs had turned to jelly. 

They walked past the reception - Aziraphale nodded to a staff member there - and further on towards the lifts. 

Miraculously, one was free just as they arrived and no other guests got into it. It was gold and gilded like the rest of the hotel. Verging on gaudy - but too expensive to be called that aloud. Despite the ample room Aziraphale kept Crowley close, completely flush to his side. Portraits of frilly-dressed ladies watched them conspiratorially from the wall. 

They rode up in silence, the journey all the more tense for it. Butterflies - or bats, more appropriately - of anticipation flew about Crowley’s stomach. This was Aziraphale, the same being he had gone to bed with hundreds of times. But something about the set up, pretending to not know one another, made it feel like it was their first time all over again. As the lift stopped at the correct floor he lurched to the side but Aziraphale held him steady. 

Aziraphale was quite pleased with how the evening had gone. When discussing the plan, Crowley seemed to gain an energy like _he_ would be doing the seducing. That quickly and quite clearly dissolved. Aziraphale didn’t mind one bit, though. He did so love to spoil his sweetheart and his reactions when he was so affected were simply delightful. 

The room was only a short distance down the hallway. Aziraphale drew out the key-card from his pocket and unlocked the door. He gently pushed Crowley on through to the luxury suite. 

The lock clicked shut behind them. Crowley turned back to face Aziraphale, his entire focus on him. The angel reached up and finally removed the dark sunglasses. As his arm fell down and away their bare, honest faces were drawn together, closer and closer, into a deep kiss. 

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos really brighten my day, I would love it if you left some! (Especially if you want a follow up smut chapter, please let me know. So far there are no plans but I wanna give the people what they want) 
> 
> Talk to me on tumblr @ineffable-anathema


End file.
